


Wanna Bet?

by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella)



Series: Spreading Positivity 2020 [8]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Hale pack, Alive Pack, Alpha Derek, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Bonding, Don't copy to another site, Established Relationship, Everybody Lives, Everyone Is Alive, Fluff, M/M, Pack Bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-25
Updated: 2020-03-25
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:53:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23307097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wasterella/pseuds/isthatbloodonhisshirt
Summary: “This book is dumb,” Jackson proclaimed, tossing it aside and grabbing for another one.“Just because the words are too big for you to understand doesn’t mean it’s dumb,” Stiles informed him.Scott and Isaac snorted. Jackson flipped him off. Boyd just let out an aggrieved sigh, like this was the worst thing he’d ever had to endure in his life.Poor Boyd, really. The guy was a saint, Stiles kind of felt bad he’d been dragged into such a crazy pack.“Focus,” Derek reminded them, still flipping through the pages of the tome he had open in his lap. Why he didn’t use thedesk, Stiles didn’t know, but he didn’t pretend to understand his boyfriend’s habits. He was weird.Weird enough to date Stiles, at any rate.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Series: Spreading Positivity 2020 [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1667605
Comments: 24
Kudos: 1005





	Wanna Bet?

“What about silver?” Stiles asked, scratching at his head while it hung upside down off the end of his bed, eyes scanning his phone. “Silver hurts most things, doesn’t it?” 

“Myth,” Derek said from Stiles’ desk chair across the room, flipping a page in the large tome he was reading. He was scowling, as was the norm for Derek, but Stiles wondered if it was a concentrated scowl or a frustrated scowl. It was so hard to tell sometimes, they were both very similar. 

He could at least tell apart the annoyed scowl from the others now, so that was a plus. Probably because he was so used to getting that one. It was primarily aimed his way. He’d have thought dating the guy would’ve meant an exclusion of the scowling but apparently even dating the guy didn’t earn him a reprieve. If anything, he saw the annoyed scowl even _more_ often than before. 

Perhaps that was cause for concern... Well, a problem for another day! Because they had enough of a problem now without worrying about Derek’s annoyed scowls going up in frequency. 

“This book is dumb,” Jackson proclaimed, tossing it aside and grabbing for another one. 

“Just because the words are too big for you to understand doesn’t mean it’s dumb,” Stiles informed him.

Scott and Isaac snorted. Jackson flipped him off. Boyd just let out an aggrieved sigh, like this was the worst thing he’d ever had to endure in his life. 

Poor Boyd, really. The guy was a saint, Stiles kind of felt bad he’d been dragged into such a crazy pack. 

“Focus,” Derek reminded them, still flipping through the pages of the tome he had open in his lap. Why he didn’t use the _desk_ , Stiles didn’t know, but he didn’t pretend to understand his boyfriend’s habits. He was weird. 

Weird enough to date Stiles, at any rate. 

Returning to the task at hand, Stiles focussed back on his phone, slowly scrolling to continue reading the notes he had on it. He hadn’t quite gotten the Beastiary up to date since his last massive research kick, hence the collective scouring of documents and notes and books in his room. 

Because they were dealing with a new monster called a Devourer, and Stiles _knew_ he’d read about that one, but alas, it was not in the Beastiary, which meant it was somewhere in the plethora of notes he had. 

Stiles really needed to stop taking notes and then not transcribing them to the Beastiary. The whole purpose of having digitized it and sharing it with the Pack was so that if Stiles ever went missing or was unavailable, they had all the information they would need to keep themselves safe. It was less useful when it was scattered across his room haphazardly. 

Or worse, in his _head_. 

Fat lot of good that information would do if he ever went missing, having information in his head. He really needed to get around to typing up everything he knew before he regretted it. 

Not that he was planning on going missing or anything, but one could never be too prepared! 

Stiles glanced over when he saw all the Werewolves in his room pause in what they were doing and tilt their heads. All five of them. 

“Oh thank God,” Stiles said, sitting up and twisting so he could throw his legs over the side of the bed and get to his feet. If they were all reacting, that meant the pizza had finally arrived, and Stiles was _starving_. 

Bouncing towards his boyfriend, he grinned and held out his hand, Derek arching an eyebrow at him. 

“It’s _your_ pack,” he reminded him. As if Derek wasn’t going to comply. Stiles knew he would, he just liked being difficult. It was sexy in the bedroom, a little less so when it stood between Stiles and pizza. 

Derek kept staring at him all the way up until the doorbell rang. Then, with a sigh, as if Stiles were being difficult, Derek pulled out his wallet and handed his credit card over. Stiles snatched it up with a saucy wink, called Derek his sugar daddy, and left the room to various groans of dismay from his fellow researchers. 

He always found it funny how much they all _hated_ being reminded their Alpha was dating Stiles.

He was a _catch_ , all right? Really, they ought to be _jealous_ of Derek, Stiles was prime real estate. 

Jumping a few steps on his way to the first floor, Stiles jogged to the front door and pulled it open, smiling out at the guy standing on his porch, looking uncertain. 

“Hey buddy,” Stiles said, moving aside. “You can set the pies down right here.” 

“Is this, uh—do I have the right address?” the guy asked, looking a little confused. “I have ten pizzas.” 

“Yup, right house. Don’t worry, there’s more guys upstairs.” 

It occurred to Stiles the guy had probably been expecting a house party of some kind. Instead, he was getting the door opened to one lone dude saying there were more guys upstairs. He probably thought Stiles was lying and had ordered all the pizzas for himself. 

That would be a _lot_ of pizza. Stiles could maybe _probably_ finish one of them on his own, but _ten_? Oof, not before throwing up. It’d also take him at least five days and probably turn him off pizza for life, and _that_ would be fucking _tragic_! 

“What do I owe you?” Stiles asked while the guy bent down to open one of his pizza bags to pull out a few of them. He paused in what he was doing to give Stiles the bill and then the card machine, then continued to transfer the pizzas from his bag to the floor in the entrance beside the front door. 

Stiles was waiting for the transaction to complete when someone appeared behind him, almost crowding him. Only two people would crowd him like this, and this one was too short to be his boyfriend. 

“We eating in the kitchen?” Scott asked, resting his chin on Stiles’ shoulder while staring down at the still thinking card machine. “Derek said he shouldn’t eat in your room in case we make a mess, so it’s living room or kitchen.” 

“We can do living room, watch some TV, take a brain break.” When the transaction _finally_ completed, the little receipt printing out, Stiles handed it back to the delivery guy with a thanks and waved, moving back to shut the door even as the others started making their way downstairs. 

Scott pulled away from him to bend down and grab all the pizzas, heading into the living room while Boyd grabbed the top box to himself from Scott’s hands and sat down in the armchair Stiles’ dad usually occupied. 

Figuring all the wolves would eat one pizza each, Stiles decided there was no point in grabbing plates. If he didn’t finish his own pizza, he was sure Derek or Scott would. He held out Derek’s card to him on his way to the kitchen to grab a two-litre of Coke he’d bought earlier in the day, and found Isaac already pulling out some glasses. 

They reconvened in the living room, where no one could decide on what to watch so Derek made the executive decision as Alpha to just put on _the Simpsons_. It was an episode Stiles had already seen, but he didn’t mind, it was a good one. He just sat on the edge of the couch munching on his pizza while all the wolves scarfed down a ridiculous amount of dough and cheese. 

Derek had ordered a variety of pizzas, but there were three boxes of cheese, which seemed to be the most popular, so Stiles helped himself to at least two slices before the wolves devoured them all. 

Seven of the pizzas were gone within ten minutes, and Stiles was still only on his third piece. He figured he had enough room left for maybe one or two more, but it was dependent on how much room the wolves had left. 

“You gonna make it, Stilinski?” Jackson teased. He _had_ to be on his eleventh or twelfth piece by now. 

“Hey man, I can keep up,” Stiles insisted. “I’m a growing boy!” 

“You’re twenty-two, you stopped growing ages ago,” Isaac said with a smirk, the asshole. Not everyone could be a fucking _giant_ like him. 

Stiles just flipped him off while still looking at Jackson. “What are you implying, that I can’t eat a whole pizza on my own?” 

“Are you saying you can without throwing up?” Jackson smirked. “This I’ve gotta see. And record.” 

“I can polish off a whole pizza! I can _totally_ eat an entire pizza!” 

“Wanna bet?” Jackson asked, cramming another huge bite into his mouth. Really, turning into a Werewolf had made him very lax on the whole ‘manners’ thing, considering his parents were fucking loaded. 

“Hell yeah I do!” Stiles started to reach for another box, but Derek grabbed him around the middle and yanked him back fully onto the couch, pressing Stiles into his side. 

“No you don’t,” he countered. “I’m the one who’s gonna be stuck with you later, whining about your stomach hurting because you over-ate. So we’re not going to do that.” 

“But Derek—!”

“It’s me or the pizza,” Derek informed him, turning to him and raising his eyebrows. “Do you want a Werewolf heater, or a stomachache?”

Stiles narrowed his eyes at Derek for the ultimatum, but in his defence, it was—it was a pretty easy decision. 

Even if he _wasn’t_ going to get a stomachache—which, let’s be real, he _definitely_ would’ve—nothing trumped a Werewolf heater. 

Especially not one as comfortable as Derek. 

“Fine,” he said, dragging the word out and sighing heavily, leaning more into Derek’s side and trying not to pout. “Poohead.” 

“Thank God,” Boyd muttered from the armchair. “He’s impossible to deal with when he’s whining, and we all know we’re gonna be here all night.” 

Stiles flipped him off, too. Derek just grabbed Stiles’ hand and put it back down, which earned him Stiles sticking his tongue out at him. The Alpha Werewolf just sighed, aggrieved, but Stiles could see the corners of his lips turning up in a small smile. 

“You love me,” Stiles reminded him, kissing the underside of his chin, which was the closest to Derek’s mouth he could reach in the position he was in. 

“I do.”

“For some _weird_ reason,” Isaac muttered from the floor. 

Stiles flipped him off again.

Derek put his hand back down. 

Boyd sighed that it was going to be a long night. 

**END.**

**Author's Note:**

> Teen Wolf (c) Jeff Davis  
> The Simpsons (c) Matt Groening


End file.
